From the Seiko SKX to the SPB317: How I Fell in Love with Seiko Again
At the end of summer 2014, Dad gave me my first mechanical watch. There was nothing ceremonial about it; he simply handed me the box in the car.
“I’m starting a new tradition, and it’s a grown-up gift since you’re heading to college,” he said.
I looked down at the box. It said Seiko. I was familiar with the brand. In fact, it was what I had been wearing up to that point: reference SNE039, a mid-sized solar-powered watch that Grandpa gave me when he saw me showing interest in it. I still have it. But this Seiko was different. It was a reference SKX173, a sibling of the beloved SKX007 dive watch that has led many a good man down the rabbit hole. It had a waterproof case, rotating dive bezel that I had no clue how to operate, and most importantly, an automatically winding movement.
“It’s easy – just shake it a bit to get it going,” said Dad. (OGs will remember the caliber 7s26’s lack of hand winding).
I took the watch out of the box and shuffled it back and forth gently to coax it to life. It did, and as I stared at the sweeping seconds hand, I marveled that a microscopic team of gears, levers, and springs were all working harmoniously just to tell time. As an incoming engineering student, I couldn’t have asked for a better gift. I secured the black rubber strap on my wrist, and that was that. The remainder of the summer was spent reading everything I could get my hands on about Seiko watches and mechanical timekeeping at large. The excitement of moving to Austin and starting school did little to diminish my newfound enthusiasm. If anything, I quickly developed a reputation for being the weird guy who would sooner ask about your watch than your major. Then one day, a good friend of mine (you know who you are) totally altered the course of my quest for knowledge by introducing me to two websites: Worn & Wound and Hodinkee.
All of a sudden, the floodgates were open to a whole new world. While Hodinkee taught me about auction results and the upper echelons of collecting, Worn & Wound’s focus on accessible enthusiast’s watches met me exactly where I was at the time. It’s difficult to imagine now, but this corner of the Internet was still largely out of the mainstream during the mid-2010s. Sure, certain models had begun heating up, and there were whispers of waitlists and rising values. But there was still a general sense that watches remained a nerdy outlet for the few. In any case, I wore my Seiko SKX everywhere I went through my college days but by the time I graduated, things had changed.
The author and his Seiko: the College Years
At this point, I believed my taste had, in my no-longer-so-humble opinion, ascended. I was now a working professional. Moved on to bigger and better things, you see. It started innocently enough with a Rolex Datejust, a 1601, which felt far more elevated than my SKX. I wore that watch for a couple years on end, and when I eventually desired something on the sporty side again, I got my first Speedmaster, an original FOIS. That was followed by a detour into Tudor with a couple of Black Bays. I thought I really hit my stride when I started collecting modern and vintage Rolex. You know the ones: vintage Subs, Explorers, even Oysterquartz. But many of these later watches, like the Rolex VTNR Sprite and 3861 Moonwatch, ended up as catch and releases. I couldn’t articulate it, but I began to feel I was chasing something that was always barely out of reach. The problem wasn’t really the watches – after all, variety and experience are some of the best reasons why we are in this sick hobby together. I was losing the excitement I had in my early years.
Another aspect that contributed to my mindset was becoming more of a regular at watch-related events (shout-out to Windup Watch Fair, Hodinkee H10, Houston RedBar) and feeling that I had outgrown Seiko and the idea of being a watch “noob”. Over the years, I even had the opportunity to meet many of the writers and members of the professional watch industry that I had admired from the earliest days of mining the forums and blogs for every last piece of information. The only direction was up, right? At this point, my perspective really began to shift, and I was exposed to wider variety of what could perhaps be described as more viscerally impressive watches, my loyal SKX173 now seemed positively unremarkable. No hand-winding or hacking seconds, questionable bezel alignment, and middling accuracy were all reasons I relegated it to sentimental status; it was a cool watch with a meaningful story but not something I reached for most days. I ended up giving it to my youngest brother when he became a rising college freshman. Suffice to say, there was no Seiko-shaped hole in my life for a long time. Until there was.
Over the last year, I began to exhibit signs of weakness. Being a resident “watch guy” in my social circles means being frequently asked for recommendations, and Seiko is never far from the top of the list. As a result, I kept up to date with the latest, from the reintroduction of Seiko 5, to Presage and Prospex watches, and more. Cracks really started to form when, after Sunday service one morning, I looked and realized just how many unique Seikos were all around me. Many were purchased to commemorate life events like graduations, new jobs, and ‘just because’ – perfectly valid reasons, obviously – while others were picked up on overseas trips. No two watches were alike, and everybody loved them. At that moment, I just missed wearing a Seiko. I almost felt homesick. Beyond FOMO, there was something refreshing about the watches that had escaped me for the last several years. The best, most journalistic, way I can describe the feeling is that it was just vibes. It wasn’t about price tags, hype, or “the next watch”, it was just about having fun. The vibes were back, and I yearned to own a Seiko again.
Choosing the perfect Seiko can seem like an impossible task, but I set aside spec sheet shopping and tried to consider what implicitly appealed to me. That’s when I discovered the SPB317, a modern reinterpretation of the classic 6105-8000. I knew the dimensions were reasonable for me and didn’t dwell on that too much. I also knew about the 6R35 movement and its somewhat checkered reputation for accuracy, but that didn’t really matter either. What was most important to me was that its “Seiko-ness” was undeniable: the case and dial design, the rubber strap, the essence of the entire package. It hit all the right notes (not unlike it did Blake when he shared his thoughts here). I tucked the SPB317 in the back of my mind. I wasn’t actively looking to purchase one but knew that if the right one crossed my path, I would make it happen. When shown this watch, a buddy of mine made me laugh when he texted me, “about ur seiko… u got a type my friend”. For all the so-called “ascending” I had done and all the knowledge and experiences I had collected, somehow I ended up right back here. No, I haven’t cleaned house or sworn off everything else. I certainly don’t know where I’ll take my collection in the future. It just humors me to think that, 11 summers later, I’ve just taken the long route home.
During a recent layover in Taipei, my wife and I had some time to kill and decided to hit the terminal shops, as one does. One small duty-free store tucked between two gates had a well-lit display case emblazoned with the Seiko logo. I took a quick peek, and there it was. Top row, nestled among its Prospex brethren, was one SPB317. I knew it was meant to be, and after taking the customary lap around the terminal to think things over, I circled back and bought the watch. There was nothing particularly ceremonial about it; they simply swiped my card and handed me the box. I wound the watch, put it on, and smiled. I have worn it daily ever since.
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